Murderer, Friend, Lover, Warrior, Brother: Updated
by Snowflight
Summary: An updated collection. :3    "I never thought this was going to happen to me. I've been wrong to trust her. I never thought that it was possible that the person I'm closest to was a murderer."    I promise you, it's worth reading this time. C:
1. A note to the reader

So, I'm back from a hiatus.

After rereading my stories, I've decided that they were lame. Like, _really_ lame.

Most characters aren't developed properly.

A lot of characters are abnormally flawless. *cough* Feather *coughcough*

Minor characters were taking over the story. (eh-hem.)

So, I'm rewriting them. Expect more description, more suspense, and better character development.

The *main* plot won't be altered much, but as you read through, you'll find out that some of the characters have changed – significantly.

And all my stories will be condensed into one.

Please, stick with me, and I promise I'll update frequently.

Thank you, and if you review, it'll make my day. Seriously. C: If you don't, I'll start not updating and/or making a rule such as five reviews before an update.

ONE last thing... I promise. Please be honest in your reviews. I want criticism. Flames are totally welcome, as long as I see where you're coming from. I want to pursue a writing career. Thank you. C:


	2. Murderer

**#1. MURDERER ~~~~**

"I never thought this was going to happen to me. I've been wrong to trust her. I never thought that it was possible that the person I'm closest to was a murderer."

Written in Stream's POV.

Thanks for *cough*REVIEWING*cough*.


	3. Chapter 1

Why _Stream_? I hate that name.

If it wasn't for my hideous mother, Silverstorm, I would have never had that name. It's just ridiculous. Why not Skykit or Goldenkit?

Streamkit. I honestly visualize myself, liquidized, flowing all over the place. Talk about random.

I drag myself away from the topic of naming. Looking around me, four other kits were becoming an apprentice as well as me.

There's Firekit, that dorky know-it-all.

Ugly to the extremity. His fur is so red it'll win in a competition with the sun. He tries to be funny all day long, but really, I doubt he'll find a mate when he grows up.

Then there's Featherkit – her name is even worse than anything I can come up in a million moons. Dungkit's better. At least cats produce dung. She's totally gonna grow feathers some day.

Plus, what will her warrior name be? Featherbeak? Featherbird? Featherface?

Beside the ugly calico was Snowkit. She's the whitest thing I've ever seen – her poop must be white as well – but her tongue is blood red. If you get on the bad side of her, I swear, she's gonna squeak and wail and your ears will be bloody by the end of it.

Lastly, there's Forestkit. He's magnificent, handsome, and talented. Of course, I was as serious about the last sentence as I would be if I told you I had rainbow wings. I hate his face more than I hate Snowkit's fur. Why me, StarClan? Why. Me.

Of course, aside from the kits, there's also some other cats.

Blackwing. My most wimpy father. Seriously, I'm ashamed. He's an embarrassment. I strongly doubt that he can fight at all. He's only twice as big as me.

Then there was Maplefur. He's a bossy crybaby. I've never seen him fight or hunt before; all he does is brag about his position as a deputy – _subtly_. Yet Sleetstar always likes him.

Oh, yes, that brings me to Sleetstar. Personally, I think he's hot. Don't ask me why or anything. I just like him, that's all.

The pale gray Clan leader's voice interrupted my thoughts. He gave an incredibly boring introduction, then mentioned the kits that are to become apprentices.

Firekit. I snickered.

Forestkit. I hissed.

Snowkit. I rolled my eyes.

Featherkit. I growled.

Streamkit. I would've smiled, except the sound of my own stupid name was unbearable to hear. So instead, I facepawed.

And what do you know, it was naming time.

Firekit, as usual, was first. His disgusting ginger fur shone red under the just-as-red sunlight.

I watched Sleetstar as he began a rant about how very incredibly professional and skilled Dappleleaf was. Of course he'd say that – Dappleleaf was his mate.

Oh, and "this knowledge is expected to be passed on to Firepaw."

Then, "Firekit shall be known as Firepaw from now on."

And Firepaw's blue eyes almost turned red under the sun.

Firepaw. _Firepaw_. I'm imagining a sooty cat with its paws on fire. I finished my thought when my brother came on the Highrock.

Mistcloud for his mentor, eh? Isn't she that mouse-brain that knows nothing about anything? Like, she just stares evilly at you. No exaggeration. But this couldn't get any better. My black pelt, green eyed brother _certainly_ deserves this.

Snowkit's turn. Eagleclaw was her mentor.

I was stunned. The pathetic, apathetic weakling of a she-cat and a strong, stubborn, and ignorant fatty paired up together.

To make things worse, Snowpaw sounds like she's got snow on her paws, even in leafgreen. Just puttin' it out there.

Then Featherkit was up. She laughed silently.

I really doubt she could talk. Like the black and white Rabbitfoot, the calico bird was practically mute.

She didn't even complain when she got Silverstorm for her mentor. If I was her, I would kill Sleetstar for making me bear with her. After all, my amber eyes burn whenever I see her. She's got a spitfire personality and yet she names me Streamkit. Her face makes me puke.

Surprise, surprise. I'm last. I wondered who I got, and shuddered at what came to mind. Rabbitfoot. The one who won't even be able to communicate with his own apprentice.

Blackwing. I'm probably able to fight better than him.

But I smiled inwardly. Maybe, just maybe... Sleetstar?

As I scrambled up onto the Highrock, I didn't even look at my parents. They're probably jealous of me. Look all you want, Silverstorm and Blackwing, but you'll never be as good as me. Don't even think about taking advantage of the fact that I'm your kit. I hate you guys, period.

Back on topic - Sleetstar welcomed me with a rather ridiculous speech.

"Streamkit, you are six moons old. From this day on, until you earn your warrior name, you will be known as Streampaw." He paused for a moment. "Streampaw, your new mentor shall be Fogstorm. Fogstorm, you are a brave and loyal-"

I cut him off, rage burning through me like fire. "No! Not that fatty!" I screamed.

The light brown deputy started to object, but seeing Sleetstar's calm expression, he stopped. His green eyes showed anger, but personally, I couldn't care less about what he thought.

"Then who do you want?" Sleetstar asked gently, despite the fact that I insulted one of his best kithood friends. I liked his patience. One of the best qualities.

Despite that, I was too enraged to act like I cared about Fogstorm. So I just said, straightforwardly, that I wanted him as my mentor. Sweet and concise and to the point.

He laughed. He thought I was joking.

I hissed quietly, and his smile faded when he saw my serious expression. I waited for a response, while his emerald eyes shifted to his deputy.

The kiss-up stepped forward. "I don't think that is an option, Streampaw. It's best to stick with Fogstorm. After all, he's pretty good-"

"I hate his face," I interrupted rather calmly. Typical Maplefur. Always trying to impress the Clan leader. Always trying to 'do and say the right thing.'

Unfortunately, Sleetstar just had to end this discussion. "I'm afraid I don't have much time to mentor an apprentice," he meowed. "I think Fogstorm will adore you."

I didn't respond. I was probably in enough trouble already. But one thing is for certain – Fogstorm won't have a sweet time.

I laughed.

Still grinning, I leapt off of the Highrock as Sleetstar called the meeting to a close.


	4. Chapter 2

First day with Fogstorm; not so great of a start.

I know he hates me because of the incident with Sleetstar. But that was completely fine with me. I hated him as well.

He tried to show me how to hunt, but I wasn't interested at all. Sooner or later, I'll learn, and I'd rather it later than sooner. I mean, the worst thing that can possibly happen is my warrior ceremony being postponed. Not that I care.

Stupid warriors. Stupid warrior code. Stupid StarClan.

Then, I forced myself to watch as Fogstorm stalked a squirrel. It squeaked, noticing the fat, pale gray and dappled tom, and scurried away.

I couldn't suppress a wry giggle.

He turned around, angered. I knew I should be scared, but I wasn't. "Go on, show me more!"

Fogstorm grunted. He hadn't said a word to me all day, I realized.

He motioned with his tail for me to follow him as he stalked into a large clearing. A vole.

Quickly, my mentor got into the hunter's crouch. His abnormally large behind was facing me, and as he crept forward, I could see the two halves of his butt moving.

At that point, I pretty much couldn't help myself, but give his rear a massive punch. Believe me, when your fat mentor is mooning you, there's not much else you can do.

So then he tumbled, and I laughed mockingly.

The vole scurried away.

Right then and there, I burst into laughter. His face was as red as Firepaw's fur.

"Oh, so that's how you hunt," I sneered, doing a hunter's crouch and creeping forward. Then, mimicking my mentor's fall, I pretended to tumble, and giggled as the imaginary vole scurried away.

Fogstorm hissed furiously, and opened his mouth to talk to me for the first time in my life. "Streampaw, if you don't behave yourself, you better watch out. You don't want to get on Sleetstar's bad side..."

I grinned. "No, of course not. Not like he'd do anything."

"... or _my_ bad side." Fogstorm finished, eyes narrowed.

"You don't wanna get onto _mine_," I mocked him.

And then he lunged towards me.

Everything went back.

"Bah!" I spat out water, shaking my head vigorously. My head hurt more than words can describe, but yet I can somehow ignore it.

I got up, still shaken, and spied my mentor immediately.

"Sorry," he said, his voice trembling.

"Sorry catches no prey," I spat, and stood on my paws. "Let's see how you're gonna explain this to Sleetstar."

"You're gonna tell him?" Fogstorm said, his voice panicking.

"Like you said, you don't want to get on his bad..." I cackled.

"...side." I finished, and punched him in the face. As I'm telling you this story, I still regret horribly that I haven't used an unsheathed claw, but we won't get into that.

To my shock and pleasure, he disappeared. Somehow, I hadn't noticed that we were on the edge of a cliff.

"Oops," I giggled.

What now? Just go back and tell every cat Fogstorm died? That was laughable. No cat would believe me.

As I ponder about what I should say, I started heading back towards camp. I didn't care. I was walking super-slow, like returning to camp after a trip to the Fourtrees.

It was all for the best. The sooner my mentor died, the better.

Unfortunately, the last person I wanted to see was at the camp entrance.

"Where's Fogstorm?" the Clan leader asked, when he saw that no muscular butt accompanied me.

"Oh,_ Fogstorm_!" I meowed.

"Yes?"

"I think he died, kind of," I answered. The "kind of" part was just thrown in there, to make it sound less severe. I yawned and began to lick my fur.

Sleetstar gave a purr of amusement. "No, really, Streampaw." He turned his gaze towards me, expecting a more believable answer.

"Yeah."

He shook his head. "Kits will be kits, eh?"

I was just about to impatiently remind him that I was an _apprentice,_ but he stalked away before a word would come out.

What do I do now? I asked myself. Sleetstar wouldn't believe me. If he doesn't, no cat will. Maybe I should just leave him to his death. After all, he's quite literally a big butt in my life.

Then a miraculous idea started forming in my mind. I could rescue him myself – _if_ he was still alive. That would certainly impress Sleetstar.

But did I care? Do I care at all about Fogstorm? I was shocked when I found that the answer was yes. I did care about him. The rude, sassy, self-centered Streampaw actually cared about her mentor. Not a lot. Not, I-like-it-when-you're-alive kind of care. More like, I-don't-want-you-dead kind of care.

I headed out of camp, back towards where I sort of killed Fogstorm. Then I bumped into some cat. The cat whose face I hate and whose behind I resent.

Fogstorm was soaking wet. He didn't say anything to me, just narrowed his eyes and growled. He padded back to camp, and I followed because I had nothing better to do.

"I hate you, Streampaw," Fogstorm hissed at one point, still shaking off droplets of water.

"That's okay," I replied. "I hate you too."

When we arrived at camp, Fogstorm headed straight to the medicine cat's den.

Of course, Sleetstar was shocked when he heard what happened. He couldn't believe I was actually capable of telling the truth. Neither could Maplefur, who kept hissing at me and glaring at me.

Whenever Sleetstar was within earshot distance, he always told me something along the lines of, "Don't worry. Mistakes happen. Just be nice to your mentor."

And whenever he wasn't, the brown-faced tom would growl, "If I were leader, you'd be dead by now."

And of course, my only response was a sneer. Maplefur couldn't do anything to me. If it weren't for Sleetstar, he wouldn't even be alive, let alone a warrior and deputy.

Before leaving to go hunting with Dappleleaf and Firepaw that afternoon, I bid Fogstorm a sarcastic farewell. When I say farewell, it was quite literally a farewell. _Farewell, Fogstorm. Remember me when you go to StarClan_.

But I didn't exactly look forward to this hunting session, either. Dappleleaf? _Firepaw?_ Oh, great StarClan. Well, I guess it's kind of my fault. Nothing I can do about it.

By moonrise, I had caught a sad little mouse. Dappleleaf and Firepaw had each caught more than three pieces of prey. I could see the Clan cats laughing at me, but I didn't care.

So instead of bringing the mouse to the fresh-kill pile when I arrived at camp, I thought for a while and decided to bring it to Sleetstar. I didn't know why.

Prey in my jaws, I headed into Sleetstar's den. I dropped it beside the leader.

"What's this?" Sleetstar asked.

"A mouse, you mouse-brain. Are you blind?"

Then, and I don't know why, I muttered, "Sorry. I just thought I'd bring dinner for you." I blushed, knowing I just embarrassed myself uberly. I've never been so red in my life. Redder than Firepaw?

Sleetstar looked down at the incredibly puny mouse. "Thank you, Streampaw."

"I caught it myself," I told him before I could stop myself. The words were just spilling out. It wasn't even voluntary. It was like I had no control over speech.

"That's nice," came the hesitant reply.

It was a pretty awkward moment, and both of us knew it.

"Well," Sleetstar meowed when no cat said anything, "I think you should eat it yourself. You caught it."

"No, I'm fine," I answered, blushing. "Bye!" And with that I rushed out of the den.

I was panting by the time I arrived at the fresh-kill pile to get my own dinner.

After a while, a black tom arrived. "What's wrong?" He asked me when he saw my troubled expression.

"Shut up, and go away, Tree-pawed fool," I told Forestpaw. "You think you're worthy enough to talk to me?"

He lowered his head and walked away.

"Well, you're wrong!" I replied to his imaginary answer.

I retrieved a vole from the pile of fresh-kill. You know, I never eat birds. They have two much feathers to eat properly and they remind me too much of Featherpaw. I was about to take a bite from the vole when I recognized the scent. Firepaw.

Thankfully, before I could upchuck all over the camp ground, I dragged it back to the pile and took a long time to pick out a squirrel with Rainclaw's scent on it.

I sat down all alone. At one time, Snowpaw came to join me with a disgusting-looking chaffinch, and I spat insults at her and told her how ugly she was. Then she went away after making my ears bleed.

When I was finished, I dragged myself to the medicine cat's den. Bluefeather was there, trying to warm up a shivering Fogstorm. I looked inside.

"How are you?" I asked Fogstorm in a fake concerned voice.

"Fine," he replied, suspicion in his gaze. He seemed to recognize the sarcasm in my voice.

"I hope you die," I told him, and then left.

At this point, I was terribly bored. I hope I get to go to the Gathering tomorrow and see some decent cats. Yawning, I stretched out on my nest, as far away as possible from that feathered-brain apprentice.

I fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of five bloody slashes and a stormy weather with sleet.

**Thanks for reviewing. C: You made my day.**


	5. Chapter 3

So, I'm back from a hiatus.

So I wasn't chosen to go the Gathering. Figures. Handsome and talented as he is, Sleetstar's also incredibly skilled at holding grudges.

I'm stuck guarding the camp. With Featherpaw. I wanted to puke, but then again, I didn't want to embarrass myself yet again. Jumping back and forth between both sides, I finally came to a conclusion that it _wasn't_ worth it to nearly kill Fogstorm.

Here's the math I worked out.

Pushing off Fogstorm = Happiness + a good laugh + revenge + self satisfaction – trouble – Sleetstar's grudge – not going to gathering – being with Featherpaw – Hunting with Dappleleaf and Firepaw = 1+1+1+1-1-1-1-1-1 = -1.

Not worth it.

So, I'm not bearing with this. It's time to be rebellious, difficult Streampaw.

I marched to Sleetstar's den. I didn't bother calling from outside. I charged in angrily, letting my impulsive side take over me.

Sleetstar raised his head, his nap interrupted. "Yes, Streampaw?"

"Do you honestly think that I can be told that I'm not going to the Gathering and not complain?" I asked him.

"Pardon?" Sleetstar raised an eyebrow, though he clearly understood me.

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm going to the Gathering."

"No you're not."

"Yes, I am, Sleetstar. Period." I declared.

"And if I don't let you?" Sleetstar challenged.

"Try me," I answered, and was about to leave. Then I turned around, licked Sleetstar's fur, and then turned back to leave. I wanted to do that for the longest while. If he did mind, he didn't do anything.

Moonrise. All the cats were organized to go to the Gathering, with Featherpaw, Blackwing, Dappleleaf, and Fogstorm staying back to guard the camp. I was supposed to as well, but I decided not to. After the last cat left, I scrambled out of the gorse tunnel, preparing for escape.

To my surprise, Fogstorm was there.

"Don't think about leaving," he warned, his butt plumper than ever when he was angry.

I growled back. "I'll kill you," I warned. And I would.

Suddenly, more cats appeared. Blackwing. Dappleleaf. Featherpaw.

Now the odds were next to impossible. But I was a proud cat, and I wasn't about to give up. I can and will. Fogstorm was going to die, right then.

Timing my attack, I sprang and landed on Fogstorm's back. Unsheathing my claws, I dug them deep into my mentor's fur. Fogstorm yowled, and I felt blood wet my paw. Suddenly, Fogstorm flipped, and while I was still recovering from the shock, he pinned me down, hissing.

Unsheathing his claws, and with narrowed eyes he glared at me. I could smell his breath as he raised a paw, but all I could concentrate on was his most peculiar behind.

As he was about to strike, Blackwing quickly came to the rescue.

"Now, now, Fogstorm," he meowed frantically. "Streampaw's only a little cat, almost a kit. No need to be so angry."

Fogstorm nodded and backed off, but I growled.

"I don't need protection from a micro-organism like you!" I hissed. With that, I jumped, and bit down into Fogstorm's neck.

Fogstorm shook like mad, and having trained for only a day, I was easily shaken off.

I landed with a thud, and everything went black for the second time in two days.

When I opened them again, I was lying in a moss bed. Fogstorm was there, licking my fur. "You okay?" He grunted. The same sarcasm was showing in his voice as the sarcasm in mine yesterday.

"Since when did I need your concern?" I growled, and pounced on my mentor's face. I thrashed about, clawing and kicking like mad.

Dappleleaf, Featherpaw, and Blackwing rushed to help Fogstorm, but I quickly changed positions and started clawing on his back. Then, perfectly aimed, I bit down sharply on his back. I closed my jaws and tore mercilessly. For a split second, my fangs and claws were sentient, and I barely knew what I was doing as I thrashed about.

I only subtly recognize the large amount of blood coating my paws until, with a yowl, Fogstorm collapsed, blood trickling from his mouth.

I grinned. A mentor who can't even beat his own apprentice. It was quite an accomplishment for me.

Anyway, my work here was done. As the three other cats rushed to where my mentor lay, half wanting to kill me as they passed by me, I hopped-bounced to the Gathering.

Except there was one problem - I had no clue where the Gathering was. Then, I smelled it. Sleetstar's scent!

Gloating over my brilliant idea, I followed my Clan leader's scent. The scent wandered closer and closer to RiverClan territory.

Then I stopped. Why should I follow the scent? I know my own way around here. I began to walk around. I'm brave and awesome. I don't need help.

After awhile, I found ThunderClan's scent again, and I followed it for a little bit and then wandered pointlessly about, admiring the sight and scenery that I've never seen before during my 6-moon sentence as a kit.

Woot. I'm so brave and cool and-

And I almost believed that. Except it's midnight. Dark. Silent.

And I was completely lost.

**How can I make it less _humanish_? x3**

**Btw, thanks for the reviews. I luff you all.**


	6. Chapter 4

**Chapter five**

Five sunrises since Featherpaw was exiled.

Forestpaw kept glaring at me, then looking away whenever my gaze met his. Snowpaw didn't go near me much. Whenever I look at her for half a heartbeat, she walks away. Firepaw usually avoids me, but one day he came up to me.

"Aren't you happy that Featherpaw took the blame?" He asked, sarcastically.

"She's a feather-brain," I replied with a wry, curt smile, and walked away.

Ugh. I have to go train with Fogstorm now. I fight epically, but according to Sleetstar, I "still need to learn more."

Fogstorm had recovered completely. He hadn't told anyone, but I was really nervous because he probably _will_ tell, sooner or later. I tried to force these thoughts out of my mind. I'm not the type of cat who should be scared of anything. Seriously, I'm Streampaw. Why should I be afraid of Fogstorm?

What was the worst thing that could happen, anyway? Me being exiled. Me not seeing stupid furballs anymore. Besides, by the time he tells, Featherpaw would be long dead. I wouldn't have to face the wrath of Sleetstar. The Clan would be too drowned in sorrow to care about the superior me.

I laughed at the mean thought as Fogstorm was heading out of the tunnel. I wanted to be difficult and stay right where I was, but thought better of it and followed my mentor out the tunnel. I have no idea why; perhaps it was because of the possible chance that I can make a fool of him during this session.

Sunlight streamed down and onto my face, warming my muzzle. I turned around and started walking backwards, out of sheer boredom, grunting and groaning. Once, Fogstorm stopped abruptly, and my butt bumped into his. That hurt a lot, because Fogstorm's rear was all muscles. After that, I started walking normally again. Boredom was better than pain.

Our plan for today was to train first, and then hunt for the Clan. As we trotted for what seemed like hours, I couldn't believe it took Foggyface this long to find a training place. There couldn't be a more monotonous mentor.

At long last, we settled in a large clearing. I yawned as Fogstorm started giving out instructions. _Do I hear something? _Just to be mean, I plugged my ears and started singing.

"Foggyface, Foggyface, foggy all the way… Oh what fun it is to have a foggy, foggy face, hey!"

My mentor let out a low growling noise, his eyes twitching in anger. "Well, apparently you know the rules, so let's start training!" With that, he lunged at me, but I dodged swiftly. Dunno how, but I did it.

"Foggyface, Foggyface, foggy all the way…"

A leaf twirled, landing noiselessly onto the ground,

My mentor hissed, and then launched an attack again. He missed, and I wondered how he could.

"Oh what fun it is to have a foggy, foggy face."

Now I could tell that Fogstorm outraged. I didn't care. It was incredible fun to see him so annoyed yet angry at the same time. He pounced again, but the inexistent StarClan must favor me because he missed – yet again.

"Dashing through the fog, with a foggy, foggy, face… Ow!"

I was slammed against the ground. My head was throbbing. No! I can't die! I'm partially in tears. I don't want my life to end! It wasn't even fair. I was only a young apprentice.

"Hey! That's not fair!" I screamed, echoing my thoughts. "What if I died?"

"Dashing through the stream…" Fogstorm began to sing, ignoring my comment and question.

Outraged, I unsheathed my claws, pouncing at Fogstorm. He dodged swiftly and expertly, and for a moment

"You're not supposed to sing, you're supposed to teach me how to fight!" I spat.

"Well," he replied casually, "It doesn't help that you're my apprentice."

I growled.

Fogstorm started to walk away. I really, really, really, really, really, really, REALLY didn't want to do this, but I followed him. "Wait up!" I kept on shouting, sounding pathetic. Dang, I sure lost a lot of face that day.

By the time I caught up to Fogstorm, he had caught a vole already.

"So we're hunting now?" I asked, hot in the face, but the pale gray tom ignored me.

He walked away, his tail tossing from side to side. "It feels so nice to be without an apprentice," he commented to no cat in particular.

I was mad, and I wanted to claw the excuse for a cat's face off _this instant_. And I totally would've, if a small, calico head didn't appear from the nearby bushes.

**I'm working on one chapter a week, thanks guys =D I can't wait until we get to Brother, that's the best book in my opinion~**


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